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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27127480">Roarin' Guns</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cutesonas/pseuds/Cutesonas'>Cutesonas</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Summer Shounen [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Punisher (TV 2017), 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angry Frank Castle, BAMF Matt Murdock, BAMF Uraraka Ochako, Found Family, M/M, Midoriya Izuku &amp; Uraraka Ochako Friendship, Minor Frank Castle/Matt Murdock, Protective Matt Murdock, Uraraka Ochako Swears, Uraraka Ochako is a Dork, Uraraka Ochako-centric</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:09:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,204</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27127480</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cutesonas/pseuds/Cutesonas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ochako wants to be strong, she never wanted to be cute. So when she heard about hero studies in america, and a man who goes by the name The Punisher, she was immediately interested, willing to go through hell to reach her goals. And little does she know that her mentor needs her as much as she needs her.</p><p>(NOT IN A GROSS WAY IN A FOUND FAMILY WAY)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead &amp; Uraraka Ochako, Frank Castle &amp; Elektra Natchios, Frank Castle &amp; Felicia Hardy, Frank Castle &amp; Jessica Jones, Frank Castle &amp; Matt Murdock, Frank Castle &amp; Matt Murdock &amp; Elektra Natchios, Frank Castle &amp; Ochako Uraraka, Frank Castle &amp; Peter Parker, Frank Castle &amp; Peter Parker &amp; Danny Rand, Frank Castle &amp; Wade Wilson, Frank Castle/Matt Murdock, Iida Tenya &amp; Midoriya Izuku &amp; Uraraka Ochako, Iida Tenya &amp; Uraraka Ochako, Luke Cage &amp; Frank Castle, Luke Cage &amp; Frank Castle &amp; Matt Murdock &amp; Danny Rand, Midoriya Izuku &amp; Uraraka Ochako, Peter Parker &amp; Uraraka Ochako</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Summer Shounen [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1836820</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Training dummy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The Punisher</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ochako squinted at the name on the paper. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sounded familiar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Where has she heard that name before?</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before she could go through the files in her brain, her friends' green and curly hair appeared at the top of her american heroes packet. She of course, lowered it, getting a full view of his extreme grin and how it raised his freckles up a tad. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She gave him a gentle smile, “Come on, say it, you don’t need to hold it in any longer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“CAPTAINAMERICAWANTSTOMENTORMECANYOUBELIEVEIT?HOLYSHITIDIDNTEVENKNEWHEKNEWMEDOYOUTHINKHEANDALLMIGHTWEREFRIENDS?” he then put a hand on his mouth, blushing as he realized how loud that was. “...I mean er-who did you get?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She scratched the back of her head, “Oh you know, no one really special.” then it clicked. “Wait, Deku, you know american heroes, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah sure!” he said cheerfully. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you know who The Punisher is?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The freckled boy froze, all color leaving from his face, unable to respond. Before the girl could ask if he was alright, Iida immediately turned his head, inching his seat to his friends. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t work for him.” he commanded, his eyes stern and voice low. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Deku snapped out of it, nodding his head in agreement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s a murderer.”  Iida seconded, “I’m sure there are other people you can work under.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ochako looked down at her paper once more, “Uh, Deadpool sounds cool…?’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah…” Deku fumbled with his hands, looking down, “He’s not exactly a hero either-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s a murderer.” Iida interrupted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“-Mercenary, he’s a mercenary.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does the difference matter?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not really no, but-” the boys met eyes, Deku getting a good look of Iidas terrifying blue eyes. “...Nevermind. But Iida is right, they kill people, Uraraka.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ochako blinked. “Okay, okay, I get it. Jeez, it’s not like I was gonna choose them anyways.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iida sighed, putting a hand on her shoulder. “We are just saying this for your own good-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ochako scowled a little. “I don’t need either of your protection.” she said sourly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We know that!” Deku mumbled, “It’s just that...well…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both boys' eyes averted from here, jumping from place to place in the classroom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t see me working under them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Deku chuckled. “No, why would you think that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because everyone thinks that! Everyone at my old school thought that when I did the entrance exam, when I fought Bakugou at the festival, when I worked for gunhead, and right now!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The freckled boy frowned, his face turning red as he looked around at the class now turning heads, he reached for her arm,“Uraraka-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, don’t.” she growled. “I’m going to choose who I work under myself.” she stated, “and you two are going to have to live with it.”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>So off to googling she went, watching video after video of those superhero drama channels, reading up on bystander reports, court cases, and security footage of them kicking ass. At first, Deadpool seemed like a pretty cool guy to work under, afterall, he said trans rights, he is pan, and is totally a feminist! Although he was still a mercenary, and sure, while he killed his fair share of assholes, the thought of working under someone who is locally hated with a shitton of bounties on his head despite being immortal didn’t sound safe, nor was it good for publicity. She could already hear the press talking bad about her, saying she’s not a true hero if she stood by as her mentor killed people for money. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And while The Punisher and Deadpool were similar, and even teammates at times, there was more information available about him. Like his real name being Frank Castle, and a marine who served in afghanistan. Hell, she didn’t even know where Deadpool was from, it was all just rumors. But Frank? Was right there, for the world to see, yet he still is still walking as free as anyone, that must take some strength. Even after losing his kids and wife. Unlike the red man, Frank wasn’t a mercenary, he was just some guy, some guy who hated pedophiles, nazis and other pieces of shit as much as Deadpool did, but did it for none of the cost. And unlike him, he had no healing factor, it was just pure skill and power. The more she watched security videos of him killing people who deserved it, and saving kids who didn’t, she finally made her decision. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p><span>And finally, the day came where they took the flight, the step into America. Sitting next to Deku, who apologized for the other day, discussing that Iida still needed time before it was alright for Ochako to talk to him again, which she was unbothered by, but then it set in as the large shield car picked him up as soon as they landed. Leaving her alone with the rest of class, trying to ignore the guilt she felt being around her friend, thinking maybe she overreacted, maybe he was right, maybe-</span><span><br/>
</span> <span>A tap was felt on her shoulder, Aizawa.</span></p><p>
  <span>“He’s waiting for you outside.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ochako nodded, grabbing her luggage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh and, Ochako?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She turned back, her sensei giving her a look of trust yet concern. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I trust you. Don’t break that, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded once more, giving him a stern thumbs up before finally leaving.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mr.Punisher stood out like a sore thumb, in a crowd full of civilians, he was dressed in a long black overcoat, steel toed combat boots and taking a long drag from his cigarette, not to mention the man was at least 6’2. She tried not to laugh as she approached him, which deemed itself difficult but not impossible. She tugged on his coat, making him jump, before finally looking down at her, squishing his cigarette under his shoe, pulling out a folded and worn paper from his pocket. His eyes switching from the paper to her, and then back to the paper. </span>
</p><p><span>He raised an eyebrow, “You’re Ochako?”</span><span><br/>
</span> <span>She nodded.</span><span><br/>
</span> <span>“Huh.” he chuckled. “Shit I thought you were a boy.”</span></p><p>
  <span>She wrinkled her nose, gripping her arm straps tight. “Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man began to walk, a bit slowly as he waited for his mentee to catch up at the nearest crossroad, stuffing his hands into his pockets. He squinted at her before looking ahead as the light turned green. “Doesn’t matter.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Uraraka gave him a look as he continued to lead her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright look before we get there we need some ground rules. Got it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl couldn’t even answer in time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good, okay rule one: we are not friends, okay? I am your teacher, and you are my student, nothing else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rule two. No killing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rule Three. Don’t stop your teacher from killing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rule Four. You are going to learn how to shoot a gun whether you like it or not.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rule five. People are going to want you and your friends dead for simply being around me, so do not use your phone under any circumstances. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rule six. Do not disobey me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rule seven. Every few weeks you will have a mission you have to do, and I will make you redo it and redo it until you do it perfectly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rule eight. Don’t tell anyone anything about yourself, not even your name. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rule nine. As of now, we are partners.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you just said you’re my teacher.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know what I mean.” the man groaned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Again, rule nine. We are partners, i don’t tell anyone your secrets, you don’t tell anyone mine, under any circumstances, okay?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rule ten. Never, ever lie to me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rule eleven. If some asshole is following you because of me when you come back home, you call me immediately. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rule twelve. If you are under any legal trouble you go to Matt Murdock. End of discussion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who’s Matt Murdock?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A bitch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That doesn’t help me.” Ochako said, staring at the man as he grips the knob to the door of an aged house. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned the knob, “You’ll understand what I mean when you meet him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door creaked as Frank opened it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Inside the walls were painted white but now peeling. The floors once sleek and wooden, now filled with scratches, dents and whatever else. The furniture was intricately crafted and fitted with white, soft sleek cushions which were now faded and dull looking. The tv completely covered in dust, smaller than modern ones, the controller also covered in dust. The rugs seemed out of place, as if they were replaced, and while it looked like a family home, there were no family photos, but instead the outline of them on the peeling walls. The feeling Uraraka felt inside made her skin crawl as she unpacked into one of the rooms, which she guessed belonged to some young girl like herself, as the room was painted a pastel pink, the bed frame cushy and a cream white with peach patterned sheets. The dresser too, was decorated with stickers of one direction. She tried to ignore them as she stuffed her clothes inside the drawers, taking a deep breath as she left the room, </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She searched for her teacher, who wasn’t in the creaky and dusty living room, or the old and rotten kitchen, or even in his own old and dank room. No, instead he was in the bathroom, waiting for her with an electric razor in his hands. Which of course, she denied to be something related to her. But as they continued to stare in utter silence she felt the dread sink in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t even like the military!” she cried. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This isn’t about the military kid.” he groaned, rubbing his temples. “Listen this is to help you, alright? So quit your whining and let me cut your damn hair.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How is cutting my hair going to help me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Short hair is harder to grab.” He said. “And dying it is gonna help you be a little less unrecognizable.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Okay he had a point, but still. “No, no way, I’m sorry but no.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kid you are breaking rule six. And I don’t have time for that, if you want some other teacher you know where the door is.”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>So she got a haircut. And her hair dyed jet black. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And a gun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which seemed hypocritical since she wasn’t allowed to kill anyone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After they were done, she stared at her face in the mirror for a long, long time. Yet her eyes were dry, her heart not feeling a twinge of pain as she analyzed how her hair was hardly short enough to even put in a small ponytail. It was jarring. As if who was in the mirror was no longer her anymore. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Or rather. This was who she was all along. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This is the girl people haven’t been seeing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And so she smiled. Leaving the bathroom with hope filling every inch of her body. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>From there they got lunch at a local Italian place. The restaurant quiet as Frank stared at the girl as she ate like a wolf. Scarfing it all down without any second to breath in between. When she finally looked up in embarrassment he smiled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man continued to smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is there something on my face?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah it’s not that.” He took a sip of his black coffee. “It’s not what I expected from a student is all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What were you expecting?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A white spoiled boy I would have to straighten out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ochakos eyes rolled. “Thanks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Watch it, I’m giving you a compliment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t really see how that’s a compliment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m saying you aren’t a spoiled white boy.”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Ochako carried the bags of leftovers back home, barely able to catch up to the New York local against all the other people she had to weave through to keep up. Yet despite this, she found time to admire the stores, street performers, and street art that made this city a different type of beautiful. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which of course, Frank snapped her out of almost immediately.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s your oddity, kid?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oddity?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, your power, the shit you were born with.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ochako looked at him as if she had three heads. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit kid, do you not have one?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? No no, I do! I...think.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frank immediately stopped in his tracks. “The hell you mean you think?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you’re talking about a quirk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frank ran his hand through his hair, “Right. You’re not American.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, that’s really what you guys call it here?” She smiled amused. “Are you serious?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frank gave her a death glare.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll take that as a yes.” She whimpered. “But yeah I thought you knew I had a quirk!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He just shook his head. “I don’t even have a quirk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughed. “I don’t know you had a sense of humor, Frank!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frank gave her a look once again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah.” She squeaked. “You aren’t joking, are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest of the walk was just like that. Awkward short and painful conversations. The doubt of her choice coming in, and the voice of Tenya echoing in her mind. Making her straighten her posture once more, determination in each step. It was the first day. it ‘s just the first day. Things will kick up. Have strength, Uraraka. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>And she was right. Things did kick up, just sooner than she expected. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like, as soon as she got home soon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like, as soon as she put down the bags soon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like, he's asking you to fight right now in an empty room of the house filled with matts to soften their falls. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like, he’s raising the stakes by saying you have to fight him while using your quirk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then she remembered one of the rules being that she cannot disobey. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>So there they were, both in the air, despite how this made her stomach protest aggressively. All she had to do was beat him. That's all. No other rules besides that she has to stay in the air as she did it. At face value, that was easy. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>But then she remembered that he was Frank fucking Castle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she’s Ochako fucking Urakaka. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t give up that easily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even after attempt three.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even after attempt seven.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even after attempt twelve. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Attempt sixteen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Attempt twenty one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Attempt-</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look like you’re gonna hurl, kid.” Frank said in disgust landing on his feet as she released him from her quirk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s because I might.” she gagged, sweat soaking her and turning her into a sticky barbie doll. Her breathing light and flighty. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frank saw this sight of her and sighed. “Take a break, go wash yourself off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ochako didn’t waste another moment, running to the bathroom to vomit out what they ate for lunch which seemed like centuries ago. Barely hearing Franks comment on how she did well today. Giving him a weak thumbs up as thanks. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Ochako dried up the last portions of what remained of her hair as she walked outside of the bathroom, sighting Frank on the fire escape, smoking another cigarette. Looking like any cliche tough guy from a blockbuster movie. Making her giggle as she folded the towel and placed it on the nearest ledge, joining her teacher outside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes widen immediately as she gets a sight of the city from this view. “Wow.” She gasped. “This city is so pretty!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frank scoffed. “It’s shit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her expression of awe falls flat into a frown. “Then why are you even out here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I already don’t like the smell of this city. Why would I want it in the house?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was true. But still.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t you like New York?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Why do you?” he sharply responded, making eye contact with her. “What, a few lights and nicely built skyscrapers, and suddenly this is the mona lisa?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, but-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl crossed her arms, “I bet you’re fun at parties.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah.” he smirked. “I’m a goddamn riot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was being sarcastic.” she snapped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So was I.”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>She let out a defeated groan. Before standing her ground once more, “What is your deal, man?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frank raised an eyebrow, flicking his half down cigarette down off the escape. “What's my ‘deal’?” he put in finger quotations. “Nothing’s my deal, kid. This is just how I work. And I told you, if you don’t like it, you can leave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know that!” she growled. “I followed all your rules-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“-Which you’re supposed to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“-I let you cut and dye my hair even though I just met you-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“-Your choice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She let out another scream in anger. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Just, what the hell is up with you? Why are you like this? Why are you such a dick?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frank rolled his eyes. “Jesus fuck kid, you are a piece of goddamn work.” he groaned, before taking a breath. “I’m a ‘dick’ because I have to be.” he sighed, giving this intense look of care into her eyes. “You want to be a hero. And while I don’t think a kid your age should be anywhere near this shit, I can’t stop you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ochako was still not getting it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have to be tough on you because the world out there is like this city. It fucking stinks, it’s full of assholes who don’t deserve to be redeemed. A city full of dicks far worse than me. Undestand?”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The next day started off with another argument. Over eggs of all things. Ochako on the defense, claiming they tasted like shit, Frank, on the offense, telling her to make her own fucking eggs. Which she did, making some for her teacher as well, who quietly admitted they in fact, were better than his. Which then prompted the girl to joke if his kids liked his cooking. The conversation then ended abruptly after that.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>New rule.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>No mention of your teacher's family at all.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Which Ochako will admit, is her bad. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Before training could commence once more, Frank gave Ochako a tip.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m a training dummy, kid.” he stated as fact. “To beat me, you have to be creative, think on your feet.” he said, pulling a knife from his boot. “And I’m gonna keep making it harder until you do that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And so into the air they went, the girl obviously focusing on the knife, disarming him in a similar fashion that she did to Toga all those months again. Though it didn’t land as well, considering she has no ground to stand on, and Toga wasn’t as big as her instructor was. Her grip lost its shape as he pushed her off, and then went in to stab her. The words from last night ring in her head, causing her heart to speed up, panic, accidentally kneeing the man in the balls. Causing him to go stiff for a moment. Ochako then gripped his wrist firmly, pulling out the knife and tossing it to the floor. Frank then tore off her arm, pulling it to her back, kicking her to the ground without another thought. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“You got the knife out of my hand, that's process.” he said, slowly falling back to the ground. “But you still have to beat me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She groaned, picking herself off the ground. “I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. Are you ready to go again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And so they went again, and again, and again. Ochako lost count as the fights all just became one large one. The fight against this faceless man who while beating her, gives her suggestions on what to do next. What points in the body are the weakest. Where to focus her weight and attention on. After a couple a days these suggestions started to sound like nags. His voice sounded somewhat similar to Aizawa at times, but a little to the left. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>As two weeks passed, she woke up before Frank, made him his coffee, black and strong enough to chew, stretched and got ready to fight once more. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yet Frank just stood there. Sipping his coffee, looking at his student as if she were crazy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The hell are you doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are we...not going to fight?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?” he took a long sip of his coffee, squinting at the girl. “You’re done.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her jaw dropped. “How? I didn’t- I never got to beat you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But that wasn’t the point.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then what was the point?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not to beat me, I’ll tell you that.” he chuckled. “You really thought you could do that?”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p><span>The rest of the day was spent out of the house. Which she had to admit, was nice considering the fact that they only went out for food. Though it felt like a sick joke, as she was beginning to understand why Castle hated the city as where he was taking herhappened to be in the shadows of the city. And by shadows she means worn down houses with lights that don’t even work, drug houses, and-</span><span><br/>
</span> <span>“Heroes for hire?” Ochako said, reading the words in red. “Why are we here?”</span></p><p>
  <span>Frank snuffed out his cigarette. “You’ll see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Inside was a secretary who beamed at Frank, claiming that they have been waiting for him. Her smile was warm, and her smile grew larger as she caught a glimpse of Ochako. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You must be his student! We have heard so much about you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl blushed, looking up at her instructor for an explanation when there wasn’t any. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As they entered the elevator, Ochako gripped her backpack straps, her anger bubbling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, talk to me.” she sighed. “What the hell are you getting at here, Frank?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He just tapped his index finger on his phone as the elevator went up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you I was a test dummy.” he mumbled. “You can’t beat a testing dummy.”</span>
</p><p><span>“God you make no sense, can’t you just be upfront?”</span><span><br/>
</span> <span>He shook his head. “No can do princess.” </span></p><p>
  <span>“I just- I don’t understand, I did what you asked, I experimented, I did what you said would work, I fought more than i have ever done in school! I have my own style of fighting now! Why won’t you let me beat you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The elevator dinged before Frank could open his mouth, the doors sliding open, revealing the number of vigilantes and mercenaries behind it. Who all coincidentally, knew who exactly Ochako was. As they all remarked that she looked exactly what they imagined when Frank mentioned her. Giving her hugs and compliments on her hair. But most importantly? None of them called her cute. Instead she heard words like badass and “like a mini frank” thrown around. She tried not to cry.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright don’t get too friendly, okay? We aren’t here for fun.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The white haired woman in black spandex rolled her eyes. “Yeezus Frank, cut us some slack, you only sent us pictures.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The black curly haired woman with the twin sais nodded, glaring at his student. “Is he like this with you? Please tell me he isn’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ochako giggled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anyways- pay attention kid I’m only saying this once, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He spent the rest of the next five minutes introducing his friends. Such as:</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Elektra.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Black Cat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Moon Knight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ghost Rider. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Misty Knight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luke Cage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spider-Man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iron Fist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Etcetera .</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You said you developed your own style, right?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl gripped her backpack straps nervously, nodding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was the point of fighting me kid, and you did it perfectly. It was never to beat me.” he then smirked mischeviously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But now’s your chance to use it against some real opponents.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Amy Bendix</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Shut up! Shut up! I don’t care anymore, okay? I need to focus! If you want to talk, tell me something useful!” </p><p>Peter grinned at her. “I knew it wouldn’t take long for you to get mad at me.”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Ochako stared down at the orange envelope, rereading the rules until it was just scribbles on a paper. She then looked up at the man who was snuffing out his cigarette into the ash pit in the middle of the table. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“So this is my next mission?” she asked for the tenth time.</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Frank noddled, rubbing his temples. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“So that means that I finished my first mission successfully?”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Yes!” he groaned. “What the hell else do you want me to say to that?”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>“Nothing! I just…” she hugged the envelope towards her chest. “I’m happy is all.” she beamed. “People back home thought it was unlike me to choose you so it’s like, I’m proving them wrong, y’know?”</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Frank’s expression stayed the same. Stern, stoney. Yet he nodded. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Ochako appreciated his silence. At first, it was awkward, as talking to him was the same as if she talked to a random brick wall in Brooklyn. Only to then realize this had it’s benefits. It was one of the few changes that living with this man she actually liked. She was no longer the friend people could just dump whatever they pleased on her lap. She was no longer talked over, undermined or patronized. She was listened to. And hardly did the man ever insult whatever she said, or even commented on it at all. It was just grunts, half chuckles and hums. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  
  <span>It was perfect. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  
  <span>So inbetween studying stealth, breakfast, lunch, and dinner did she grow to tell him more. Telling him about his parents, their economic predicament. Which he then offered to give them money, which of course, she turned down. Ochako then told her about how she met Deku during the exam, and Iida, and Mina, and Tsu, and all the friends she made, who she was sure loved her. But she always wondered if they just liked the idea of her. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  
  <span>And as time went on, she was hoping that in return, the man would share something about him. Anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  
  <span>But maybe she was hoping too hard.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Anyways. Second mission time.  Or well, training to do so. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>The mission was this. In each borough, there was a person who you had to escort to the next borough. This person is being hunted. You must make sure they are not out of your sight. You do this until you are brooklyn. If you have protected all four people then you have successfully finished the mission. It sounded easy, but knowing Frank knew it wasn’t. Only to be proven right as Frank took her down state to a shooting rage out of the city. It was makeshift, old and definitely homemade with scarecrow-like dummies with drawn on targets and a pair or worn black noise cancelling headphones and scratched goggles. But before she could even begin to work on her aim, Frank pulled her aside, plopping a full magazine in her hand. And then he commanded her to load it. Which she did, trying to remember all the american movies she watched on how it was done. It was hardly done with any grace but she did it, under the judgemental eyes of her teacher who glared down at her as if he was mentally checking her off on some sort of unorthodox quiz. It felt as though she passed by the looks of him. Barely but, she passed nonetheless. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>From there came the holding. Dominant hand on the handle, index finger on the side, right above the trigger, non dominant hand on the bottom, no, not like that, tighter, closer like this. Frank then repositioned her hands in the perfect position, oh so ever close to her, explaining the consequences of not holding a gun correctly which she of course was paying attention too, and not at the look in his eye. It was warm. Extremely warm. Familiar. One that reminded her of Aizawa, or...her father. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Come to think of it, this was fatherly in a way. This feeling, this teaching, this whole thing felt like cold days in winter when her and her father would put up lights for christmas or fix the shingles on the house with a couple of nails and a trusty hammer younger her used to call Max, based off that old american movie with brad pitt. One of the movies they never had to pay for. That look, that tone of voice, filling her with the giggly glee she felt when her father sprayed her with the hose as they washed the car. That...working man feeling. That...trembling the first time gripping a bike while your father made sure you didn’t fall over. </span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Holding the gun as if it was her first time pumping a tire all over again. Pulling the trigger as if it was the first time making a birdhouse with her father. And then feeling the recoil, hot and quick, like all those days her father taught her the right way to fix the engine of a car. And pulling the trigger again and again, Frank repositioning her stance and arm so she got it just right, as if it was her old hello kitty hand-me-down the bicycle all over again. Slowly pedaling without the training wheels. Reloading the magazine like olive oil into her first independently made meal. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And at the end, the shitty excuse for a human target was riddled in holes, most in the legs, and arms, and none in the head. In a way, looking a lot like the first Christmas tree Ochako picked out herself at twelve. She knew how this went, she knew what to do next, as if she was an actor who knew all the lines by heart. Turning back, Frank grinned, it was small, hardly noticeable but sweet as honey. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nice job, Amy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks! Wait-“ </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The two stared at each other, until Ochakos eyes widened some more. Prompting her mentor to groan. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who’s Amy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nobody.” He spat, stuffing his hands in his pockets and walking swiftly away back to the busted up car she was sure he stole. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh come on! I tell you all about my life!” She said, huffing, trying not to fall behind. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me your whole life story but-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frank gritted his teeth, turning around sharply on his heel, getting into her face, hardly ten inches apart from each other. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We had a deal, kid. I teach you, you follow my rules. You either follow them or you haul your ass all the way home. Do you understand?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes sir.” She seethed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good.” He said, opening and slamming the driver car door as he entered, meanwhile ochako threw her backpack in the back, sitting in the front passenger seat with her arms crossed, bean eyebrows furrowed. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>For a painful few miles, it was silent as a plane ride in the middle night. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t know you had a second daughter.” Ochako finally spat out, midway through traffic in a borough she didn’t exactly recognize just yet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Immediately, Frank hit the stop pedal with all his might, prompting the cars behind him to honk and shout, as if he gave a damn. “I am not obligated to tell you anything about me, okay? That isn’t how this works!” He yelled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And why not?” She barked back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I said so!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t I get some say in this at least?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But that isn’t fair! I-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Life isn’t fair, okay? I thought I already established that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She rolled her eyes. “Oh yeah, your tough guy monologue.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frank kept his eyes on the road, “what the hell did you expect? I’m the punisher, not fucken- fucken-“ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ochako sighed. “Ms.Marvel?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, her, thank you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well you’re not welcome.” </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Another agonizing silence filled the car ride back home. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why the hell do you want to know so damn badly?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it a crime to get to know the guy who is teaching me? Jeez, are you sure those heroes are your friends?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Watch your tongue, kid.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, sorry” she said, raising her hands faintly, not exactly heartfelt. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>A couple more minutes passed, they were almost home. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>At some point, in the parking lot, Frank sighed, glaring at the steering wheel. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Amy...was a special girl.” He finally admitted, turning his head, to Ochako. “A lot like you. Young, poor, street smart, just doing what she could to eat.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Was…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frank didn’t say anything else, and instead grabbed the girls back out for her back and handed it to her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have a few errands to run, go practice like I taught you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And like that he sped off. Leaving the buzzcut girl alone in the house. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Practice? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She had to laugh. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Like hell was she doing that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She neatly placed her shoes at the door, and hung her backpack on one of the rusty hooks, immediately tip-toeing into her teachers room, not exactly sure what to look for. This felt wrong, sure, and he would be mad but, it’s not like she could use the internet! She was curious, not stupid. Okay Ochako, you have approximately an hour and a half to learn more about this Amy chick, that shouldn’t be too hard, right? </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Okay turns out it was. Figures. A man like Frank would have his room tightly wound. But she didn’t give up! She couldn’t, she refused! </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>In the midst of her digging, was a cardboard box. Banged up and aged like all hell, dusty at the top which she easily blew off, to learn that the box was filled to the brim with newspaper articles. Things ranging from the brunette lawyer he mentioned the other day to government conspiracies relating to the war in Afghanistan. And of course, Amy. Or well, what was left of her anyways. The newspaper clippings were aged and yellow, curling at the corners, Amy Bendix, orphaned at age eight. Jesus. She then scrolled through some more, Amy Bendix, arrested on charges of robbery and theft. Amy Bendix, identity fraud, Amy bendix, sole survivor of hotel massacre. Amy Bendix, kidnapped by the punisher. Amy bendix….</span>
</p><p>
  
  <span>Mary Morrison. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
  <span>Mary Morrison, same girl, different age, different name. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
  <span>Mary Morrison, youngest marine scavenger in 2015-</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
  <span>Ochako froze, hearing the door car slam close. He’s back. She shoved everything as orderly as she could back into the banged up box, stuffing it back where she found it, fixing the rest of the room, and closing the door. Using the sleeve of her shirt to wipe off the prints of the knob, and sprung into her own room, sitting as comfortably as she could on the bed, picking up one of the gun manuals Frank picked up with her the other day, pretending to care about all the ways you could hold a gun as the man opened the door with a creak, announcing he brought back food. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
  <span>It was five guys. And it was good, though, the lingering atmosphere from the car still remained. Making every bite a little less satisfactory as it would have been if she hadn’t been sneaking around in her teachers room like that. It was stupid, it was mean, and not at all a justified action to do. And for what? She didn’t even know that girl existed until today, nor did she necessarily care about what happened to her either. That was stupid. That was fucking stupid!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” Frank said, sipping his soda with a sharp glare at her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ochako gulped down her burger with wide eyes. “Hm?” She nervously hummed. “Help myself to what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t play fucking dumb with me kid, I know what you did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. Until finally ochako sighed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay I did.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thought so.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just nothing kid, that was a test and you failed it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl took an angry bite out of her burger once more. “It’s not my fault talking to you is like talking to a brick wall.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And it’s not my fault I’m not a talking Barbie doll. Okay? Does your teacher tell you his life story back in Japan?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exactly so why-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But at least he cares! And would do anything to make sure his students are okay! Physical and emotionally!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frank didn’t say anything to that. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>And once again the house fell silent again. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Two were both too damn stubborn to apologize exactly at that moment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Inevitably, the next day arrived. The first day of the boroughs mission. The two still refused to say anything to each other that was worthwhile. Not that either of them would admit that they cared. Though of course, this made the day go especially long for the buzzcut girl. Who now made it her goal to get through this challenge not to make her teacher proud but instead, her father.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sun finally was beginning to set as the girl tied on her sneakers extra tight, loaded her gun and filled her pockets with magazines, pulling her fingerless pink gloves on and zipping up her med kit into her backpack. And with that, she was ready. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>First escort on the list was Peter Parker. A twenty something year old university student studying to get his masters in some stem field. The picture on the file looked about as average as you could, if you ignored the black rings under his eyes and slight scars all around his face. He seemed restrained in the picture. Like yeah sure he was smiling but, aggressively. With his canines flashing, and upon shaking his hand she couldn’t help but notice the slight bruising on his knuckles. Nobody needed to be of high intellect to know the guy was some type of fighter. But he was still scrawny, like a strong gust of wind could blow him over. So no vigilante, just a chihuahua who thinks he’s a wolf. Though, even if this guy thought he was the next John Cena, even if he’s seen things the buzzcut girl couldn’t even fathom, why associate yourself with The Punisher? Matter of fact, how did they even happen to cross paths?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ah. She accidentally said that out loud. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, to be Frank with you kid,” He joked, all the pun intended, walking not giving a single damn in the world as Ochako did her best to look to and fro for any possible snipers waiting for the perfect shot on rooftops, gripping his arm so he didn't stray too far off from her sight. “We met on a misunderstanding.” He said, a moon shaped dagger whizzing by his messy brown hair as Ochako pushed him out of the way in time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The girl could see the reflection of the hooded man that it belonged to in the dagger, white, bright and had more where that came from. Not that Peter cared, as he continued to babble on and on about their relationship as Ochako tugged him along, weaving through the crowd of people. The moon man is still gaining. And the girl? Couldn’t even hear herself think because of this guy she was escorting. They weren’t even halfway there and she was already losing to the fact that this wasn’t stealth at all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ochako gripped at the boys shirt, shaking him. “Shut up! Shut up! I don’t care anymore, okay? I need to focus! If you want to talk, tell me something useful!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter grinned at her. “I knew it wouldn’t take long for you to get mad at me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” The girl said, still gripping his shirt. “Is this some sort of game to you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter chuckled. “Uh, yeah? I mean for me it is, for you? Eh….not so much.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ochako didn’t even have time to take out her frustrations on him as another moon throwing thing hit Peter right in the arm, causing him to screech out in pain, many heads turning their way to the commotion. Despite the poor girl's efforts to silence him, considering it was just a scratch. The people running away once catching a glimpse of who the caped man was. Some even yelled his name. Finally giving her some insight on who the hell he was supposed to be. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Moon Knight. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The streets were now empty. The moon illuminating their warrior as if he was the star of some Broadway play, and Ochako was the monster he was supposed to slay. She’ll admit, in that moment his completely white suit looked kinda badass and cool. Her awe forgetting the fact this guy was in fact, her enemy. The air being knocked out of her immediately, falling to the ground wearily grabbing her pistol as the knight grabbed Peter. Shooting at his legs, him yelping in pain as Ochako choked, shooting a couple more rounds just like Frank’s taught her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well, without the same precision. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But he’ll be fine, right?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Right?</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>It was hardly a fight. It was hardly a couple of bullets, so why-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Why was he on the floor?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s fine, right?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s a superhero. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He has to be, right?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She ran a couple seconds later than Peter did to his aid, sucking her teeth in guilt at the large pool of blood spilling out of his chest, as the escort was no longer acting like a fool, putting hands on the wound to show the bleeding somewhat while the trembling hands of the girl unzipped her backpack, forcing a smile, reassuring Moon Knight that she would fix this. That he’ll be okay. That he’s in good care. That…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man's bloody hand clutched Ochakos cheek. Chuckling quietly at her, wiping the tear that fell with his thumb. “You’re one hell of a shit, kid. Frank picked his student well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sniffed. “Mister k-knight,  Gomen'nasai, Gomen-I- I’m so sorry I-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was starting to go. Yet he laughed. “Don’t worry kid, this happens all the time. I’ll be fine. I promise you…”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>His bloody hand then went limp. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>And Ochako screamed, holding his chest close, begging for this to be some sick joke or prank. Even when the university student pulled her away, into the darkest alleys of the city with expertise. The red and blue lights highlight both of their faces every now and then. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry- I’m so-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The brunette went down on his knees to meet eye to eye with her. “Listen kid, I feel you, I really do, this sucks but I promise you being caught by the police and having Frank rescue is ten times worse. So work with me here, okay?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ochako sniffed once more, nodding, wiping her tears. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter gave her a soft smile. “You’re doing great already, kid.” He said, pulling out his phone and dialing Castle as they continued to run from the scene, as Peter retold what happened in full detail. Not at all helping the poor girl feel too good but it’s not like she exactly had a choice in the matter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually, they arrived back home, both of them with dried blood stains all over their clothing. Peter went first to wash himself off, as per Frank’s request meanwhile he and Ochako packed their bags, readying to high tail it the fuck out of here before the cops add all the facts together about what the hell they were doing. The two were utterly silent to one another as they did this. That was until Peter was done, offering a buddy of his safe house by the name of Wade. Which Frank denied in a fucking heartbeat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This prompted her to take a quick shower, glimpsing at herself in the mirror, a bloody hand on her cheek. Her hands, her nails, even under them, were littered with blood. Her body began to tremble once more, the voice of the knight replaying in her mind. It was so weak, so frail, so-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A hand was felt on her shoulder, Frank. The Punisher. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She hiccuped, embracing him tightly, Frank freezing for a moment before rubbing circles in her back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I did everything you said…! I-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t want to kill him I-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you didn’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was an accident.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No it’s not, he’s dead, I- I killed him-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but-“ Frank made this weird face, forcing the girl to pull away from the hug for a second.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this a prank?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? What the fuck? No.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you said ‘but’ meaning...what exactly?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Frank exhaled awkwardly, avoiding eye contact with the bloody girl. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Frank.” She grumbled. “Is he dead or not?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frank made another constipated face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Frank.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“FRANK!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s...alive.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ochako took her shower, this new information sitting her as comfortable as time travelers are on the titanic. Usually when heroes in Japan die, they stay dead. Even that one hero who’s quirk was that she couldn’t die, died eventually. And sure, she has heard of people like Deadpool never dying and practically being immortal like Wolverine but still! Fucking weird couldn’t even begin to explain it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But that wasn’t what bothered her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No, what bothered her was that even if can be resurrected with some moon Egyptian magic, what she did was murder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She killed someone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And if he wasn’t the knight of the moon or whatever, he would still be dead. And she was like have taken away something she could never, ever, begin to bring back to him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That’s what she did.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That’s what Frank did. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I...don’t think I want to be you.” Ochako sheepishly admits, entering the brand new safe house after Frank opened the door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frank hummed, putting one of his multiple bags down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I never expected you to be anything close to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, really?” Huh. That was…not was she imagined him to say. She figured there would be more yelling. More insults, more anger, more arguing, bargaining, the whole damn thing becoming another thing they couldn’t agree on. Yet...he was fine with it. More than fine, actually. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>For a minute there was a feeling of…</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Mutual agreement. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Warm and understanding, like this light color of honey. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“So I take it you don’t want to kill again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Never again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He chuckled. “Good.” </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Ochako had no more tears left to shed. Her face now unrealistically dry as the night drove itself to an end, both in their respective bedrooms without much words of relevance uttered toward one another. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The poor girl couldn’t sleep a damn wink, the gunshot, the blood, the fading of someones life coming to an end because of her, because of her mistake- </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Everyone talks about murder, and death, and self defense and what makes it justified and what doesn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>But nobody talks about the day after. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Nobody talks about the shower where the blood washes away into the drain, nobody talks about the clothes you may as well burn, and the pavement now bloodied.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>No one writes a book on how to live with such an action so…</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>So destructive. So irreplaceable.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Time felt cold, and uncompassionate, unloving and withholding. As if mocking Ochako that nothing she can do can’t take back what she did. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Sure, he isn’t dead now, but-</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Jesus Christ we get it, he would have stayed dead if he didn’t know moon magic or whatever. Stop thinking about it, stop feeling bad, it's okay now, you're okay, he’s okay now, go to sleep. You’re okay.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The next day felt like a cold sunday morning before church, with all the gloomy and tired silence to match, along with the food that tasted like grey mush to both people who occupied the house. The coffee black and bitter, air cold and full. The house is unfamiliar and too big for either of their liking. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>And then there was a moment where Frank finished washing his dish, that he looked with his student with the same eyes he did at the shooting range. Exhaling a pained sigh. “I think it’s best if you-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, don’t you dare say it. I’ve come too far to quit now!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look kid, this isn’t on you. You did everything right. This is on me, okay? Don’t fight it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck you!” She cried out, getting in on the man's face, tippy toeing to try to see eye to eye with him. “I’m not going home!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frank rubbed his temples, resting his hips on the kitchen cabinets. Breaking heavily with a sense of wear to him. His shoulders fell and his posture relaxed in this, exhausted sort of way. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should have known this was a bad idea.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Ouch. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl would be lying if she said she wasn’t at least a tiny bit hurt by that. But her fury was more loud. More demanding, more willing to bargain a deal in order to stay. Despite how much his teacher continued to say no. Saying he wasn’t going to change his mind, so she should just drop it. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Ochako, of course. Hated that answer. “I bet Amy didn’t take no for an answer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frank’s voice was cold and sudden. “Don’t. Bring her into this.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl smirked coyly. “She turned out fine by the way, but oh wait! You already knew that, didn’t you?” She teased.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Amy was able to escape me!” He yelled, his voice booming and echoing, bouncing off the walls. “She was lucky, she ran away before it was too late and got to live her life.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dry. Dry silence. The only thing heard were the never ending whizzing of cars out and about around the neighborhood. Followed by the air conditioning and murmuring of conversations outside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well then, you were wrong about me then. I’m not Amy. I don’t run.” She stated, standing firmly. “I get my hands dirty and deal with it head on. So no, I’m not going home on your terms. I’m going home on mine.” </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“While are?”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry it took this long to update!! I hope y’all like it!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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